Musings and Muses
by Vanwilder
Summary: A collection of ideas that have been rattling inside my head, which may or may not grow to be bigger stories. Contains solo and crossover fics, but will all contain Harry Potter. UPDATE: Now adding some drabbles in the Make A Wish universe (will contain Mr Black).
1. Calm Harry

If Harry was dosed with calming droughts, what would've happened differently? A squirrel named Steve would've still been alive, that's for sure.

#

"Just relax mate, everything will be fine."

"She's my sister Harry!" Ron said.

"So? I don't see what the big deal is. What's the worst that could happen?"

"The basilisk eating my sister one inch at a time while she's alive and screaming?"

Harry's face grew a bit serious. "Exactly. See, nothing to worry about."

Ron fainted.

#

"Just give me the goddamn stone!" Quirrell shouted.

"Okay fine. I dunno why you're shouting though?"

"My master needs that stone immediately, you blundering fool!"

"Why does he need it so urgently? Just calm down bro, it's not as if Dumbledore is going to magically appear here and stun you if I delay..."

Dumbledore magically appeared and stunned Quirrell, while Harry sat and turned the stone around. A bit of the stone cut his hand at some point, which he ignored completely.

#

"Don't worry Dobby just chill, relax."

Dobby covered his ears when he heard the forbidden words.

"Please, Dobby is sorry Harry Potter, Dobby won't do it again!"

"Calm down. Here, sit down along with me on my bed, and think about doing nothing for a full day. I find it has a calming effect..."

Dobby started slowly backing away. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named only killed and maimed people, but Harry Potter was much worse. He prayed for the easy death of the Diary and popped away, leaving a wizard in his bed calmly reading the letters his friends had written.

#

"Harry?"

"Yeah Ron?"

"Why are we not running away?"

"Why should we be running away Ron?"

"There are spiders the size of a house surrounding us in the middle of the forest. Don't you feel that's something to worry about?"

"No, of course not. Why would you think so?"

Ron smacked himself. After a long suffering sigh, he again tried to reason with his eccentric friend.

"Harry?"

"Yes Ron?"

"We're in a dense forest at night. Correct?"

"Yeah."

"And we're surrounded on all sides by giant spiders who would pass for small hills. Still with me?"

Harry nodded.

"And they are carnivores, who eat children like us for breakfast. Agreed?"

"Sure do."

"Then what would happen if they tried to eat us? Shouldn't we run away?"

"Now you're just being silly Ron. They're just misunderstood creatures, all of them. They wouldn't hurt you at all." Saying that, Harry calmly walked out of that clearing. The spiders were so flummoxed by the stupid bravery of the foolish child that the duo was able to escape unharmed.

Somewhere deep inside the dirty walls of Azkaban, Hagrid teared up. He didn't know how, but he was sure Harry had done something to make him proud.

#

"So you have a time-turner, Hermione?"

"You aren't mad that I didn't tell you about them?"

"Why would I be?"

"... Let's just go save Sirius."

#

"Hagrid is keeping a Dragon in his wooden hut. What should we do about it?"

"I mean, the worst that could happen is his house getting destroyed, which can be rebuilt easily. On the other hand, Hagrid would recieve a valuable life lesson."

"Hermione, was he always this smart?"

"I don't know." Hermione said, observing Harry critically.

#

These scenes wrote themselves. As always, keep reviewing. Also, share any interesting ideas you think of where a calm Harry would've been loads of fun. Next time it will be year 4, because book 4-7 have lot more of these situations.

Lectio Beatus!


	2. Calm Harry 2

Dumbledore was shocked.

Percy was shocked.

Ron and Hermione were shocked.

Hell, _all_ the spectators were shocked.

"What," Fred and George whispered at the same time.

"Mudblood… When my father hears about this… Scarface…" could be heard from Draco's mouth as he lay twitching in his seat.

The girls in all three schools swooned.

Harry Potter had collected his egg within 45 seconds by the clock.

Later, the Omniculars that had captured this event would be sold in thousands of galleons.

This was beyond insane.

McGonagall managed to come out of her stupor when she spotted Harry going back the castle.

"Potter!" she shouted. Harry calmly stopped and waited as she caught up to him.

"What was that?"

"I believe that was my task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament that you just saw, Professor."

McGonagall stopped herself from shouting at the wizard. Three years as his teacher had taught her that shouting at him won't get her anywhere.

"I meant, how did you get past the dragon?"

"Well, I walked past the dragon, got the egg, walked back out."

Her wand twitched.

"Why did the _bloody_ dragon _not_ attack you?"

"She couldn't see me, professor."

That made no sense.

"That makes no sense," she said.

Harry agreed. It didn't make sense to him either.

"How could she not see you?"

"I don't know, professor."

She looked at him, trying to make out any signs of lying in his behavior, but he remained as relaxed as he always was.

"What would you have done if the dragon saw you?"

"I would be dead," he said casually.

"And you are okay with that?" McGonagall was shocked.

He shrugged. "We are all gonna die."

Hermione caught up to them.

"You were right, Hermione."

"HARRY POTTER! What kind of a stupid stunt was that?"

"Which stunt are you talking about?" he asked. He was confused, but in a calm way.

"'Which stunt' he asks. The stunt where you LITERALLY WENT BETWEEN THE LEGS OF A FREAKING DRAGON is the stunt I am talking about you bloody—" she noticed McGonagall standing there "—stupid boy," she finished lamely.

"You seem to be mistaken, Hermione. I was just doing my task, not any stunts. I wasn't even flying on the broom. Why do you think I was doing a stunt?" He was still calmly confused.

"I… You…"

Her brain short-circuited.

Madam Pomfrey had to read _Hogwarts a History_ twice before she came out of her shock. "Why did the dragon not see Harry?" she asked as soon as she was coherent.

"They can only sense fear. Harry was utterly fearless, so she couldn't see him."

Hermione passed out.

McGonagall didn't have it this easy. She went through 50 catnip packets and slept for a whole day before she could deal with the existential crisis she was having.

* * *

Later that evening he stepped in the empty classroom and waited for his friend to arrive.

A sliver haired girl entered the room and closed the door.

"Hey Luna."

"Hello Harry Potter. How was your day?"

"Boring," was his answer, same as everyday they met.

"Today's dose," she handed him potion bottle.

"I sometimes wonder…"

"What?"

"What if I didn't drink this for one day? What would it feel like to _not_ feel calm? To feel happy and sad and angry and hurt but not calm."

Luna looked at her watch.

"How about this," she said, "the effects of yesterday's potion end in a moment. How about you delay taking the potion by a few minutes?"

"Sure."

And then the feelings started hitting him.

The overwhelming dread he had felt in all those adventures he went in.

The happiness of all the times he had spent with his friends.

The sadness off all the times he yearned for his parents.

All of it hit him at once.

"Give me the fucking potion!" he managed to shout before he fell on the floor and curved into a ball.

Luna hurriedly gave him the potion.

Slowly his body stopped twitching.

He stood up, a calm expression firmly on his face.

"I don't want to do that ever again."

Even in his calm voice the desperation could be heard by Luna.

"Of course."

And Harry was calm again.

* * *

 ** _AN_** : That's right folks, I am working on "Calm Harry." If I get a bit more inspiration, this will become a brand new incomplete story in my profile. Yay?


	3. Calm Harry 3

Dudley had stopped bullying Harry long ago, on account of not getting any reaction at all. And so he and his group were bullying someone else when the Dementors came.

The boy being bullied ran away quickly. Dudley and Pierce weren't so lucky.

The Dementors couldn't enter the Dursley's house due to the protection spells. So they whiled away their time feasting on the souls of the neighbours. By the time Mrs Figg called Dumbledore, 27 lives were lost.

Harry kept reading one of his course books inside his bedroom. Calmly.

OoOoOoOoO

On the continued insistence of his Godfather, Dumbledore finally acquiesced and Harry was allowed inside Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Many rounds of hugs and "I'm so sorry Harry!" followed his arrival, with one or two "I'm glad you're here" thrown in.

He caught Tonks as she tripped over the Troll-leg Umbrella stand. That somehow woke up the painting.

Walburga Black was quite the screamer in fact. Something that everyone living in the house wished they didn't know.

Harry stood before the painting as she roared about filthy mudbloods and the great house of Black. And the bestial nature of Harry's parentage. And how much the Muggle-worm made her skin wrinkly.

Harry continued listening to her calmly, without responding at all.

She screamed, she roared, she cursed.

He had faced down a fucking dragon.

She stood no chance.

OoOoOoOoO

"Your education is rather... _lacking_ when it comes to defense." Umbridge said in her sickly sweet voice.

The class was silent.

"Ministry guidelines must be followed. Dumbledore has allowed the Hogwarts standards to drop significantly. Why, I heard one of the professors was a Werewolf!" She shook her head, "No, we won't be having any of that anymore."

All eyes, as one, turned to Harry. He calmly looked back at Umbridge.

Umbridge's smile turned a little bit forced. She had thought that would be enough to get a rise out of the troublemaker.

"With dangerous criminals like Sirius Black out there, you need to know what spells to use."

Hermione's fist clenched and her nails dug deep in her palm, even as she glared at the professor. Ron wasn't much better, restraining his hand from drawing his wand and firing one of the spells fake-Moody had taught him last year.

But Harry, he just sat there, taking it all. His expression didn't change at all except for the occasional blinking.

Umbridge lost all her smile and snapped sharply, "Put away your wands and take out your books! We won't be needing those!"

The class obeyed, some easily, others quite reluctantly.

Draco was surprisingly one of the last students to obey.

OoOoOoOoO

"We really want to start a Defense club." Hermione whispered to her sort of best friend. Well, she thought he was, after all they had saved each other's lives countless times by now. But she never voiced the question though, just in case. You never knew with Harry Potter.

"Okay." Harry shrugged.

"No... I mean can you teach the club?"

"I could sure."

Hermione bit her lip, used to his antics by now. Ron leaned closer, waiting in case his backup was needed.

"You think there's a better idea?" she asked.

"Well... Yeah. I think Dumbledore would be a much better teacher," he said as he licked his ice-cream in slow, measured portions.

Hermione was stunned.

"Will it be allowed though?" Ron asked.

"I don't think students can form defense groups, so that in itself is illegal," Harry explained, "Now, if you're making an illegal club, just go all out, wouldn't that be for the best?"

"That. Is. Brilliant." Hermione whispered in awe.

Harry shrugged and went back to eating his ice-cream slowly. Even as it was melting. Ron couldn't look at such an atrocity happening so he looked away.

OoOoOoOoO

"Dumbledore agreed," Hermione's voice was flat. She couldn't quite believe it even now.

"He even gave us a classroom that he charmed to hell and back. Only we can even see it now, others just see a blank wall," Ron whispered much more excitedly.

"Good," was all Harry said.

OoOoOoOoO

Voldemort had a lot of trouble controlling Nagini enough to make her move, much less actively spy on the DoM. The overwhelming sense of calmness that enveloped his mind whenever he tried to possess the snake was not worth the effort to fight every single moment of possession.

So, Arthur Weasley was never attacked by a snake.

OoOoOoOoO

Sirius had sent him a gift, which he had opened quickly. The mirror had been a good surprise. Sirius Black seemed like a nice individual. He liked him, Harry decided.

OoOoOoOoO

"We need to save Hagrid and Grawp... Come on Harry let's go!" Hermione was insistent.

"Remember Norbert."

That shut her up.

"Hagrid is an adult, Hermione. He can make the decisions and face the consequences."

"Yes but–"

"But what?"

Hermione bit her lip, but remained silent.

"You're bloody brilliant, mate." Ron said, his voice full of worship.

OoOoOoOoO

Harry never received any visions, his mind was so calm that no thoughts that were aggressive or threatening could enter it. He gave his History of Magic exam without any problems and slept peacefully.

The mirror vibrated in the middle of the night while he was sleeping. He woke up groggily, slightly, _very slightly_ irritated. He opened the mirror quickly to find Sirius on the other end.

"Oh thank god... Where are you Harry? Are you safe? Did you leave Hogwarts?"

"I'm in Hogwarts and I'm safe Sirius."

"Oh lord, thank Merlin. Do you know if any of your friends have left the castle today?"

"Not to my knowledge." He shrugged.

"Good enough, I suppose. Okay call you later, go back to sleep. I'll inform others."

Harry nodded, kept the mirror back inside his trunk, and went to sleep quickly.

OoOoOoOoO

"Dumbledore catches several Death Eaters in the Ministry!"

"Is You-Know-Who back?"

"Were they imperiused?"

Harry scanned the newspaper headlines before folding it away. Hermione was sure to tell him if anything interesting happened.

Umbridge had been left outside the gates of Hogwarts and the mighty gates had closed with a mighty and definitive _clang_ sound.

Harry had been slightly amused.

OoOoOoOoO

 **AN: Yet another Calm Harry. The muse hits me at the oddest of times and doesn't leave until I've written it completely. So yeah, this was year 5.**

 **Wonder if I can make 6th year interesting enough or do I need to club the last two books.**


	4. Luna's Pudding

Harry was sweating profusely. "I can ex-explain, Luna..." he said, trying to buy some time, looking around the room for exits not blocked by his girlfriend.

"I'm listening," came the calm reply from Luna, who was anything but calm.

"Today's a Sunday... and Ron wanted to have a couple of beers down at the Leaky..."

"Go on."

"And... and..." Harry had an epiphany, "The shop was closed! Yes! The shop was closed, so I couldn't possibly buy the pudding."

"What do you mean the shop was closed? How can the shop be closed?"

"I don't know?" He shrugged. "How could I possibly know why the shop was closed?"

"I think you don't understand," Luna's voice was as calm as ever. "The last time that shop closed when I wanted a pudding, the owner had lost his father, his pet dog, and his whole shop had burned down. They never found the culprit."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine.

"So I ask again, Mr Potter, why did you not bring my pudding from the shop that was most definitely open?"

Harry leapt out of the window behind him. Death was a much better option than facing an angry Luna.

The wind, however, caught him in his fall, pushed him back through the open window, and slammed him face first on the floor.

"I'm waiting." Her wand was in her hand.

"I forgot, okay! I bloody forgot. I was too drunk after I left the Leaky! That's the truth!" Harry shouted. If he was gonna be dead either way, he might as well be honest. He waited for his inevitable doom.

And waited.

And waited.

Gathering the courage to look up, he saw Luna smiling.

"Now that wasn't difficult was it?" Wait, was she smiling?

"Huh?" He was confused.

"What, you thought I would kill you or something?" Luna laughed.

"Yeah..." he answered quite honestly. Not the best reply, but cut the guy some slack, he had just been denied any and all attempts in saving himself.

"Oh no. No. No no no. No. That would be too easy."

Suddenly, he saw something malicious in her innocent smile. Before he could so much as twitch his little finger, He was completely encased in thick roots wrapping around his whole body, trapping him completely but leaving his eyes open.

"And now, you watch."

She used a spell that made another copy of herself.

It wasn't a true copy, of course, but it was a close enough so as to make the difference irrelevant. Harry knew this spell _intimately_. Indeed, this spell had been used many times in his bedroom.

Luna produced a bottle full of a brown, bubbling potion.

"Do you know what this is?" the first Luna asked.

"Of course he does. Don't you?" the second Luna asked.

Harry managed to nod slightly. Polyjuice Potions were drilled into the Aurors' heads, till they could recognise it in their sleep.

Luna produced out another box, this time full of hair.

"Draco was very generous when I asked for his hair." She smirked.

"No." Harry tried to shout, but the roots didn't move.

"Yes." Luna answered anyway.

She downed the potion, and both the Luna's started stripping.

"NOOO!" Harry screamed. And screamed.

And screamed.

* * *

AN: I'm sorry. I really a– who am I kidding. I am a sadist. All writers are. Bwahahaha.

Inspired by the lively chat in LeadVonE's Discord server.


	5. Lavender Brown and the Won-Won Syndrome

"Good morning Professor Sneaky-Poo!" Lavender greeted Snape in her typical manner.

"It's Professor Snape you imbecile..." Snape said in a long suffering sigh.

The Gryffindors in the class tittered.

"Five points from Gryffindor."

"See, I told you he is biased," Ron was whispering to Hermione. They thought that he couldn't hear them, but Snape really could.

"Mr Weasley, I'll take five more points from Gryffindor just to prove you right."

"See, I bloody told you!"

Hermione silenced his lips and stuck his hands together for good measure. Snape almost gave her points. Almost. She was a Gryffindor after all.

"Today we'll be learning the Fetus Deletus potion. The instructions are on your textbooks, begin."

"Pass on the toad legs, park-in-the-sun."

"My name is Parkinson, you more-Ron."

Ron's cheeks coloured. A sharp elbow from Hermione stopped him from toppling the table.

"Silence!" Snape shouted, and all of them went back to looking like they knew what they were doing. Spoiler, they didn't.

"I don't think that potion should be belching out rainbows, Neville. Are you sure about this?" Harry asked him.

"I think so."

His flask exploded.

"Damnit."

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Longbottom. Go see Madam Pomfrey."

Ron managed to mumble something before Hermione quickly reapplied the silencing charm.

"Yeah, Madam fishy-fishy will fix you right up, Longest-bottom!"

Parvati facepalmed herself. Why did she have to be friends with her? But then she remembered what Lavender could do with her tongue. Oh she knew exactly why she was friends with her.

Snape fired a Ventus, frustrated beyond words. He couldn't wait till the day these morons graduated away from him. No other batch had quite so many dunderheads.

45 minutes.

He had to wait for more 45 bloody minutes.

He was almost tempted to screw it all and join the Dark Lord. At least he would be tortured in a more traditional way. He felt he would gladly take a crucio to the face if it meant that he would be able to slaughter them all.

"You can ask for help from Professor Kitty-Cat, Professor Sneaky-Poo. She is always so helpful whenever I have a problem and I talk to her about it."

He looked at Harry, hoping that bastard would kill him.

"Well done, my minion, I've trained you well," said Luna, watching the drama from far away.

* * *

Based on a Reddit prompt: "Lavender is a social butterfly who gives all her classmates Won Won style nicknames."


	6. The Obligatory Marriage Law Fic

It was a Tuesday. Looking back on it, that should have been the first indication that things were about to go wrong.

The Bad Luck I seemed to have first struck when I was aboard the Ministry lift, when a random low-level worker stumbled inside and crashed into me, sending both of us to the ground. A year ago, that would have led him to suffer a _crucio_ in the face, for such blatant disrespect. Alas, the times had changed.

So, I reluctantly accepted the apology he reluctantly gave, and we stood at opposite corners waiting for our level to arrive.

But I was stubborn in my good mood, not wanting to ruin it because of such trivial matters. And Luck was, it seemed, even more stubborn.

So it was that I reached the Wizengamot Chambers after suffering through two different coffees being splashed on my finest robes. The _scourgify_ is a very useful charm, but it was the principle of the thing.

The Chief Warlock was late, as usual. The scum had elected a Muggle-loving fool to the position after the Dark Lord's downfall, and he insisted on using their primitive ways of traveling to get to the Ministry. Who could deny the usefulness of the Floo? But no, he had to do these things which had exactly the opposite effect, annoying the hell out of those of us who got there early, as a Wizard or Witch should.

The slugs would elect a slug as their leader, it was the natural order of things. Pity the slugs were in the majority.

(And she studiously ignored a tiny part of her mind which said, _and what does that tell you of the Death Eaters? The ones who took the Dark Lord as their leader?_ )

She was quite annoyed, though none of it showed on her face. She was a Slytherin for a reason, she knew how to control her emotions, unlike those _Gryffindors_ who wore their emotions on their sleeve.

When he finally arrived, he stood upon his dais and said, "Welcome to the 479th meeting of the Wizengamot! I am Michael Allan, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and..."

But she ignored him. He wasn't worth her attention. If they would have allowed the Members to send a representative, she wouldn't have been here more than once, and that would just be a visit to appoint a representative. But a seat on this body was much too valuable to lose for some boredom. So she attended each one of them, even if she didn't have much capacity to suffer the fools.

But it seemed that her Bad Luck was just starting to rear its ugly head, as a bushy brown hair stood among the sea of plum, and said with much the same annoying tone that had grated on the nerves of most of her year-mates in Hogwarts.

Granger.

Or more specifically, Head of the Post War Acclimatization Department, set up for getting things as 'Pro-Muggle' as possible, while blaming the War as the cause for the changes.

"The premium Arithmamcers in my department have identified a problem in the Wizarding Britain which may very well destroy this society. I am talking of the low birth-rates of Magical children since Grindelwald's Era. By our best estimates, this society will dwindle into nothingness in around 200 years. Drastic measures must be taken to prevent this.

"I implore you to consider the problem and its possible consequences before you deny the solution I bring before you. It goes against every Muggle moral concept I know, but this is not the time to dawdle. Our children's futures may very well depend on what you decide today. The research we have conducted has been supplied to you in a brief and easy-to-read booklet on the right of your chair. Please take a few minutes to read it before you take this as some sort of hoax."

How _could_ anyone _not_ take notice?

I looked across my colleagues; some reading with an intensity, others turning the pages reluctantly, though not understanding a thing that had been written. The Darker ones were the most obstinate, refusing to so much as touch the book. Oh well, stupidity was never confined to the Muggles, even though it seemed to be so.

For my part, I had known about this problem for some time now, no secret ever stays inside the walls of the Ministry. I had already redone all the calculations, and had reached the same results. We were dying. I knew it already.

That was one of the reasons our alliance in the Wizengamot had only put up a token resistance when the Pro-Muggles created the government. They did get the job done. And, though I am reluctant to admit it, they were doing a far better job than the governments in the past half a millenium, if the history books were to be believed.

But I still turned the booklet to the last few pages, where the suggestions were usually written. What I found was so shocking, I couldn't even control the emotion from coloring my face.

What she, and by extension her department, were suggesting was nothing short of madness.

I really, _really_ , needed to put a stop to it.

"But surely you jest, Granger?" I asked, knowing that she was deathly serious; as she always was, the prude. "You cannot really make us do this, can you?"

After hearing my response, many others turned the pages in a hurry, to see what had startled me so. I rarely talked to anyone, _ever_. So it was perhaps shocking for more than a few that I even had the ability to speak.

And I could see it in their eyes, the moment they read the suggestions. The eyes widening in shock, the mouth hanging open in denial, and the eyebrows reaching the hairline in appreciation of the sheer propensity and bravery required to even suggest such an idea.

One or two weaker willed ones went ahead and fainted. Thank god for the _ennervate_ charm, as such laws couldn't be passed without the full attendance of the Wizengamot.

But Granger was stone-faced through it all, even though to a Slytherin of any capacity she was an open book. At least her attempt was very good, given this was one her first forays in politics.

"I am completely serious, and more than a little worried about the Wizarding World," was her unnecessary response.

"But," one of the Members ventured onward, "You cannot expect us to really agree to this! Preposterous, is what it is! You suggest we go around marrying our precious children to _Muggles_!?" The last word came out strangled, like the final breath of a dying animal.

"Yes," was her calm response, a sharp contrast to what was happening around her in the 'Mot.

"We really need more magic users, for our society to survive. And short of breeding through other species like goblins or centaurs, this was the best our team could come up with. Do you really think we would have suggested this if we had _any_ other choice?" She asked, and I could see the fight going out of the Member.

"But my daughter is already in love with another Wizard, would you truly break their relationship? Both of them would be so very devastated..." An older Lady exclaimed at first, then became more subdued as she completed, the voice barely above a whisper at the last word.

Ah, the classic tactic of making it emotional. Let's see how she takes it.

"And I completely understand your point, Madam, but this is above you or me or your daughter, we are talking about the survival of our society."

"But they are _Muggles_! We have a whole bloody Statute to keep the worlds separate. You do realize that this move would significantly increase the chances of us being discovered by them, yes?"

Went unmentioned was what kind of devastation would ensue if the world at large knew that we had magic. We would be hunted down, every last one of us, to either ask or demand that their wishes be fulfilled. That was to say nothing of what kind of weapons they had, and what irreparable damage could be done to a Witch or Wizard by said weapons.

As I contain none of the false modesty people try to show nowadays, I readily acknowledge that I am somewhat of an expert of Muggles among my family and friends. Even after being a Pureblood Slytherin, I know that such things as _unclear bombs_ exist, and I know what kind of devastation they can bring. Though it is anyone's guess why they named it _unclear_ of all things, perhaps they themselves don't understand it completely...

And this is one of the reasons I think they are particularly dumb. Making such kinds of artifacts, and making their existence public knowledge.

"You also need to consider," continued Granger, seemingly unaware the deathly silence the previous statement had brought, "that there won't be any of us left for them to discover if we continue as we previously have."

There was silence in the Chamber for a few minutes.

Then the Chief Warlock stood, and perhaps for the first time anyone had seen such seriousness on his face. "I recommend we take a 45 minute lunch break to digest the information and reach our conclusion. But this is a very serious matter, and no communication or person will be allowed to leave the premises for any reason short of a medical emergency which our Ministry Healers can't treat. Any who still go will rescind their Seat in doing so. We need to make a decision, not our pockets or our family."

And no one, not one of us, disagreed with him.

It was a bloody Tuesday; I really should have come prepared.

* * *

The idea is that instead of Muggleborns having to marry Purebloods, everyone has to marry Muggles. I set out to write the Obligatory Marriage Law Fic, all the while thinking what new idea I could add, which I hadn't seen before. And _voila_.

It will take me a long time to come back to this, but here is a hopefully interesting start.

 ** _Lectio Beatus!_**


	7. Gotham city

Going to Gotham city was probably a bad idea, looking back on it. After all, a city has normal superheroes. You know, web-slinging, ion blasting, with the occasional Heat-ray vision, just the run of the mill costumes, et cetra.

And then there is _Batman_.

Born from nothing but a desire to clean up the crime bosses around his city, this fellow sure knew his stuff.

He has masters in martial arts that I haven't even heard the name of. Cool technology, a freakin' Batcave, even has a friendship with the Mayor of the city.

Not like me, running away from those Aurors.

Oh, did I forgot to introduce myself?

Meet your very own, the one and only, Saviour, Protector, Man-Who-Won, Master of Death (and whatever the hell they are calling me these days), Harry James Potter.

Man, now I know why Dumbledore had so many names. It just sounds cooler, you know.

Why am I running from the Aurors? Because they can't give me a freakin' break.

After that silly little trick I used to defeat Tommy Boy, people have put me on some kind of a pedestal. You think Boy-Who-Lived fame was big? Try defeating a Dark Lord.

Sometimes, when a fangirl jumps at me and sucks my mouth off right in the middle of Diagon Alley, I almost regret offing the Dork Lord.

Almost.

He _did_ kill my family, didn't he?

Anyway. I left Britain about two months back. Right after the 42nd attempt on my life. It is like I have got a big target with helpful neon lights painted behind my back. Anyone who's any kind of a bad guy tries to kill me, so that they can boast of killing the Saviour.

After the third time my head got decapitated, I decided that enough was enough.

Oh, and I am probably immortal. Probably should've mention that some time ago.

So here I am, walking down the street, minding my business, when a very weird guy shows up. He has got a very creepy mask with a barbaric caricature of a smile painted on it.

Not gonna lie, I wanted to do an about turn and run for my life.

I can handle a snake-face with glowing red eyes anyday. I may even be forced to listen to a man with a freaky looking eye doing rolls inside the skull for a school period or two.

But this was just _wrong_.

You don't do certain things, you just don't.

You do not joke about a funny little joker in a children's party up and killing the birthday boy just like that.

Oh right, Joker.

No wonder Batman was so mopey and moody. I would be too if I had to round up these kind of criminals on a daily basis.

Back to the present, Joker was casually walking down the street, with a gang of his people throwing tiny bombs in seemingly random directions around him. The tiny things released some kind of gas, though I had no clue what would happen should I breathe in a little of it.

I seriously considered simply Apparating away from there, leaving the mess to the professionals.

Then a voice suspiciously like Ginny said in my head, "Harry, remember who you are? The jump on the troll's back, stab the big snake with a sword guy, remember?"

Yeah, who was I kidding? Come on creepy guy, it's Showtime.


	8. Avengers

The Chitauri were a crazy bunch. No selfishness or self preservation. If one being killed lead to an increase in chance of success, they'd do it in a heartbeat.

If they had one, that is.

No amount of _imperius_ worked. No confundus charms took hold. So he had to go out into the warzone. He knew his help would be invaluable. He also knew that he would come under the watchlist of every secret agency on the planet.

Donning his hastily assembled costume, he swept out the window of his house to the sky filled with aliens and super-heroes. He mainly focused on helping civilians, figuring that they knew more about how to stop this mess.

I didn't remain unnoticed for long. Stark stopped in front of me for a few seconds as I was helping people trapped inside a bus; then quickly went off to join the melee.

Just then, a huge snake like thing emerged from the portal, and I changed directions quickly. Super or not, they were struggling with it. I create a portkey and threw it in its direction.

As soon as it touched the portkey, a huge chunk of its body was teleported to a nearby ocean. It veered off course and crashed on a building, completely crushing it.

The others looked at me, shocked. Then collectively decided that I was a problem for another day.

Loki was being his usual condescending self, even as I watched from two buildings away, and got his arse handed to him by an enraged Hulk.

The portal started to disappear a short while later, and a tiny figure in scarlet and gold was falling down. I did the only sensible thing to do, and transfigured an unbreakable cushion underneath him. He slowed to a halt.

As soon as I decided that no more was the world at danger, I disappeared under my father's, or rather Death's Cloak. It wrapped around me comfortingly, even as I made my way slowly to my house.

It seemed that even Asgardians were incapable of seeing within the Cloak; I guess light works the same for every eye.

Elder Wand was still in my hand, telling me to go out and rule the world. To boast and to enslave everyone, even as it whispered the others to stab me in the back and take my wand for their own.

This was the price to pay for unbelievable power.

To always look over my shoulder, to always keep my friends at an arm's length, lest they succumb to its whispers.

The Stone was the harshest, though. It showed the dead, and didn't.

When he called his dead Godfather to him, he did not tell him how proud he was. No. He told about how good things were on the other side, how his mother was just chasing Prongs across the room over some prank, and how the only thing they missed was him.

His mother told him how she wanted to embrace her son, how she longed to meet him, but couldn't.

He was really considering suicide when Hermione broke through his defence of "I'm fine" and listened to the whole story. She made him promise to never use the Stone to call any one he loved. She guessed – correctly, as she always did – that it was another double edged gift by Death, and it was better to just forget it existed.

The smallest brother was truly the cleverest, and the gift he recieved only had one disadvantage. The Cloak would fail to hide him in mortal peril, so that he would be even more liable to get killed.

It seemed that Death truly was rather possessive about the dead, wonder why.

*

Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., all around super spy, was in a conundrum.

Just who was this costumed figure? Where did he come from? What were his ideals, priorities, and the most important, did he pose a threat to the world?

He was completely blind-sided by this new development. _None_ of his spies, cameras, agents or other agencies had predicted him. It was as if he had arrived from _outside_. After dealing with the craziness that was Loki, he was reluctant to discard the ideas like time-travel, alternate universe, even another human-looking alien.

He was an unknown. The most hated word in his vocabulary was 'unknown.' He needed to know what he was, where he was from, and what he ate for breakfast a year back, Damnit.

After the Crisis, capital, was over, he _disappeared_. None of the imagery, whether in UV, infrared, X-Ray, showed him any longer. That kind of tech was yet to be discovered. And one of the things he threw _teleported_ a chunk of the beast into the ocean, as had been found by his agents. No explosion, no whooshing of air creating a feedback loop causing the whole thing to stop. It was there one moment, and the next it was gone.

It was as exciting as it was terrifying. What if he threw that device on the President? What if he used it to enter the Helicarrier? What if he had already entered?

Too many questions kept popping, and no answers recieved. Not even Thor had any way to locate him, though he kept mumbling about a Seidhr, whatever _that_ was... Was it too much to ask for a break after saving the world from Aliens intent on enslaving everyone? The answer seemed to be a strong 'yes,' at least at this moment.


End file.
